


A Party In These Metal Walls

by gala_apples



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 07:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15967907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: Alfredo has terrible taste in music. Barbara and Trevor can only be so supportive before they have to bail from the dance floor.





	A Party In These Metal Walls

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'confined' prompt for seasonofkink.

One thing the experienced of the world don’t tell you is the more significant relationships in your life, the more you end up doing things you couldn’t give less of a shit about because someone you love cares. Tonight for example. Tonight Barb is at some awful concert because Alfredo wants to be here. Trevor definitely doesn’t care either. Despite Trevor claiming to not have a favourite band, or even genre, Barbara is certain it’s not an alt rock band called Faucet Controller. At least she didn’t have to pay much money to hear such scintillating lyrics as ‘I’m gonna be the biggest of the big’, since it’s just some college band at a small venue. Alfredo’s loving it though. Rather than piss on his parade, it’s Trevor she convinces to sneak away with her. Not too far, just to the nearest door with a lock. It’s early in the night, not a lot of people have drunk enough to be wasted in the bathroom. A stall is the best place for them.

It’s tight, getting two people into a stall. Barb ends up being slammed against a side wall, cold metal biting through her women’s cut light knit tee. She curls a leg around Trevor’s hip, pressing her needy pussy against Trevor’s bulge. Is it wrong that nights like these she labels Trevor’s huge dick one of his top five good qualities? He’s a great person, but _fuck_ , the cock on him.

Barbara’s drunk, and excessively horny thanks to said spirits. These might not be ideal circumstances, but she wants to bone down. Problem is, Trevor is currently trying straight edge on for size, after a few mistakes he never wants to repeat. So when Trevor starts to kiss her Barbara pushes him off by the shoulder and gently holds him far enough to look him in the face. 

“You know I’m buzzing, right? I know you can’t do booze right now, so I figure-”

“I dont give a shit. I’m not going to catch the high by rubbing myself on you.”

That’s enough of an answer for Barbra. She throws herself forward the few inches she can and kisses him ravenously, hands on his back pushing upward. She wants to get Trevor’s skin on hers. She wants to feel his ribs on her nipples. 

Trevor’s hands are doing their own busywork, dipping into the waistband on her hips. He drums his fingers on her ass, squeezes like she’s a beauty to sculpt. He pulls on the thin upper support of her scanty blue panties, yanking the fabric into a wedge against the most sensitive bits of her. Barb tries to cock her hips -whether her intent is to get away from the pressure or make it stronger even she can’t say- and is immediately blocked by the metal wall. She can’t move. Trevor is close to her and the wall is so unyielding. It’s like bondage without the bondage. 

 

“I want to fuck you Barb, can I fuck you?”

“Yeah, Trev. Yes. Please.” She rolls Trevor off of her so he can slide down his jeans and underwear. She requires less preparation herself, just a shove of her skirt and a crook of her panties.

They don’t get too far into the fuck, though. First there’s the creak of the men’s restroom door opening. Barbara holds her breath, well aware of the acoustics of a room like this and the echo of any noise. Then there’s a knock at the stall door. 

“Who iiiis it?” Barbara shrieks out in a falsetto. Either she knows exactly who it is, and will get a laugh, or she’s wrong and the stranger might peg them as weird enough to not want to interact with. Barb’s just fine with whoever fucking off and leaving her and Trevor to it.

“Open the door, you bitches,.” Alfredo whines.

Barb's tempted to tease more, but she’s also hit with a sudden wanting of Alfredo to shove his fingers up her ass. Humour is no match to horniness, and she opens the door.

“I can’t believe you ditched seeing my favourite new band to fuck in the bathroom. I don’t even know what I’m madder about, you not caring about my music, or leaving me out of sex.”

“Well come join us, then.” 

“Are you serious?”

“You know what spices up a concert of a band you don’t like? No offence,” she tacks on. “Come dripping out of both your holes.”

“You sure you can handle both of us?” Alfredo teases.

“More like can this stall handle both of us with her,” Trevor replies.

“Come on. You’re like the two skinniest people at Rooster Teeth. If any three people could fit in one bathroom stall, it’s us.”

“Can’t we just bang on the counter?”

Apparently Barbara has to do all the thinking, despite almost certainly being the most fucked up of them. Alfredo went onto the floor with one cup of beer in hand, but she doubts he left the stagefront for refills, mostly because the bar was where she went to dull the misery of this band. “No, we can’t bang on the counter. That door doesn’t lock, and I’d like some plausible deniability if someone has to piss.”

“Six feet in a stall is not plausible deniability.”

“It’s better than flashing my junk to the next person to walk in. Alfredo, in or out, choose now.”

“In. Let’s Tim Gunn this shit and make it work.”

Two was tight. Three is downright claustrophobic. Or it would be, if Barbara cared to stress about it. Instead she thinks it’s kind of great. Or at least interesting. Her skirt is pulled above her hips, loose on her waist like a belt notched wrong. Her panties are draped over the napkin disposal drawer, so she doesn’t lose track of them. Her legs are spread wide over the bowl of the toilet, and her hands are braced on the tank. Right against her back is Alfredo, his dick about to enter her pussy. The only thing that’s making him wait is his broken concentration thanks to Trevor, who’s squished between Alfredo and the door. Barb’s not big on condoms. Between polyfidelity and birth control, she’s set. The boys feel less lighthearted about cream pies, and so they both keep a cartridge holder on them with a condom and travel lube, just in case. And a good thing, for nights like these, when Trevor is fingering Alfredo open miles from their apartment.

Once Trevor is fully sheathed in Alfredo, the rocking begins. There’s so little room that with every pull back Trevor bangs himself against the door. Barbara’s heard of rhythmic thrusting, but this is her first experience of percussionist thrusting. She could laugh, and yeah a giggle or two come out, but she’s mainly turned on. This noise is what happens when someone tries to contain their love. She’d record it for future listens, if she dared pull her phone out of her bra. It’s really not much of an option though. There’s so little room, and Alfredo is fucking her so hard, that if she stops bracing herself she’s going to go forehead first into the wall. Maybe not as disgusting as Gavin’s podcast story about being pushed in the bathroom, but still not great.

Alfredo comes first. It makes sense. He’s the one with double the sensations, double the getting laid. If Barbara was getting railed two ways at once, she’d probably come first too. She feels the hot pulse of his come jetting into her, and a moment later his hands drop from her hips. It’s then that the problem becomes obvious. Well, not problem, persay. The facts, maybe. There is absolutely no room whatsoever to follow their standard threesome etiquette; the one to finish first ducks out to the side of the bed so the other two can finish with each other. Normally at this point Trevor would be sliding into the spot Alfredo’s just vacated, new condom on, or preferably none. Barbara will never say no to a slurry of both her boys at once. But Alfredo can’t tap out. Trevor has to open the door for any of them to actually move significantly, and he can’t do that until everyone’s orgasmed and pulled their pants up. And that leaves Barbara with the shiver inducing feeling of Alfredo softening inside her, and Alfredo the overwhelming feeling of still getting fucked after spending his load. This confinement has brought on a hell of a situation. 

The one benefit to Alfredo being spry as fuck is now that he’s only getting fucked, not doing the fucking, he has enough core balance that he can use his hands for better purposes. Such as, reaching around and getting at her clit. Barbara appreciates the effort quite a bit. She probably wouldn’t have needed it to come, not as tipsy and horny as she is, but it sure makes it easier.

She can tell when Trevor finishes. He’s not a loud orgasmer, never has been. It’s that Barb’s been getting residual thrusts, the ripples of Trevor moving in Alfredo, and now they’ve stopped. None of them much for cuddly afterglow, especially not in public situations, pretty much immediately they decide it’s time to get themselves sorted. With some degree of difficulty they manage to balance space and public nudity, balance putting clothes in the right places with having the room to do so. That’s not to say every hair is back in place. Trevor’s shirt is soaked with sweat, Alfredo’s standing with the mild awkward stance of the freshly assfucked, and Barbara’s going to feel the delicious slipperiness for a while yet. But all in all, Barbara’s happy with what’s just happened.

“Want to fuck in a closet tomorrow?”

“What?”

“Or a pantry? Not that I know anyone with a pantry. But this no space things worked out really fuckin’ well. I think it’s gonna be my new thing.” Confinement is bondage without the elaborate ties, and she’s into it. Absolutely she’s doing it again.


End file.
